Badminton
by Buttons579
Summary: In which Lucio and Pharah wonder about that weird sport the doctor likes to play. Oneshot.


_It's kinda like tennis_ , Fareeha thought to herself, leaning against the rail. _Except, uh, it's kinda like volley…with a shuttlecock._

She watched the game with a frown in face. The rules were simple enough, of course – hit the shuttlecock with the racket, don't let it drop, send it over the net to the other side. What she could not for the life of it understand was where the fun was in all of that. It was… too quiet. Too monotonous. Too repetitive. She would have been bored out of her mind if the sport was the only reason she was there…

But as a matter of fact, it wasn't. She watched the game, sure, but mostly she watched Angela play it. Fareeha watched her move back and forth, jumping, running, hair flying in the wind. She watched little beads of sweat form on her forehead and roll down to her blonde brows. She attentively eyed lean muscles flex and well defined curves move –

"I don't get this game," A voice called out from her back, making her jump. She turned around to see Lucio grinning at her. He moved to stand by her side, his usual grin stamped on his face. "That's not a real sport. You know what a real sport is? Football."

"Football," the woman repeated, her eyes glinting.

"That's right," Lucio continued. "Eleven on eleven, one ball, sun on our backs, dirt roads –"

"Bare feet. Chipping the toetips off," she grinned.

"Oh yeah!" he cheered. "Old flipflops to mark where the goal is. Shirt-versus-shirtless. Saving the whole year to pay a ticket to the stadium and then oh man, oh man, thousands of people, the chanting, the heat, the emotion –"

"Al Ahly versus Zamalek!"

"Flamengo versus Fluminense!"

They locked eyes with one another, glowing in shared excitement.

"Football!" they said at the same time.

"That's a real sport," Lucio repeated, and she nodded in agreement.

A whistle sounded, breaking their conversation, and Pharah turned to see Angela jog their way, her cheeks flushed. On the other side of the court, Zenyatta ran the opposite direction. The blonde perked up when she saw them, waving. She snatched a water bottle on the path and approached the two.

"Lucio!" she greeted. "It's the first time I see you here. Didn't know you were into Badminton."

"Doctor Ziegler," he acquiesced. "To be honest, it's not quite my type of game. I'm more into football."

" _Fussball!_ " Angela smiled. "Your country is quite good at it, _nein_? Reinhard also loves the sport, did you ever talk to him about it? Germany has always been a strong team."

Lucio's expression suddenly changed to a frown. "Yeah… yes, we talk about it sometimes." He then muttered something inaudible, but Fareeha thought she caught the words 'seven' and 'one'. She would have asked, but then Angela placed her racket on the ground, uncorked her bottle and pressed it to her lips, a trail of water escaping the corner of her mouth and rolling down her chin, and the Egyptian was suddenly very distracted.

 _This is so not fair –_

The doctor stopped drinking halfway down the bottle, then paused for a moment and spilled the remaining of the liquid on top of her head. It ran down her neck and nape, dampening the collar of the swiss' red sports shirt. The Egyptian forcefully looked away so the other wouldn't notice she was staring, looking at Zenyatta oiling his joints instead.

"You should try badminton some time," Angela commented innocently. "Maybe Fareeha will talk you into it. She's a big fan, did you know? She comes watch the game every weekend." The blonde turned to her, a sunny smile gracing her lips. "I hope you're not too hungry? Zeny and I are tied one round each; we still have one to go. It's all right if you need to run and have lunch ahead of us."

 _I am very tan and she can't see the blush_ , she repeated to herself what had become her mantra.

"No, it's all right, I'm not that hungry," she lied. "I'll wait out the match."

Angela's face lifted with her answer, and she picked up the racket and rested it on her shoulder. "I'll be quick, promise. Cheer for me!" she joked, then ran back to the court, where Zenyatta was already in position. Pharah tried and failed to not watch the other's behind and those very short shorts –

"Fareeha is a big fan," Lucio mimicked, his voice three octaves higher. "She comes watch the game every weekend," he went on, laughing, and she felt her cheeks burn. "The game, my ass," the Brazilian finished. "Well, her ass. I mean, I can see now why you like it even though you're used to more exciting games – well, the other sort of exciting games, like football, not this other game you're playing –"

"Shut up," Fareeha hissed, but the other was unable to stop chuckling, and she had the sudden urge to punch that idiot grin off his face. He must have sensed it from her murderous glare, because he had the brains to back away and run to the exit, his laughter getting louder as he ran. From the court, Angela turned to the rucks and tilted her head at her, and dark skin or not, the Egyptian was sure she was blushing hard enough that anyone could see. She covered her face with both palms and counted to ten –

And then the whistle sounded and she moved back to where she'd been, because the match had started and she had a sport to watch.


End file.
